This Isn't What We Wanted
by Charm
Summary: Chapter Six is up, and it's a songfic. Princess Elle, to Goo Goo Dolls Iris.
1. The Perfect Work of Art

So, that's it.

I'm... going to disappear.

I shouldn't be spending my last hours like this. Not regretting everything I brought about. I can see Elle again, touch her face with my fingertips.

Yet... I _saw_ her die.

I don't know what to think now, this fake spectre of my dear one. But even though she says she doesn't remember the surface world...

There's something in her eyes...

I wonder what Elle would have thought of technology. Far from our old water mill, there are the hydroelectricity plants, the nuclear superconductors. Humans lost so much when they swung down out of the trees.

The airplane... now the heavens are no mystery. It's no wonder the cathedrals are falling apart.

The animals in Safarium... are now in a zoo, hundreds of miles from their home.

They're... crying.

The sky is crying... and the tears are filthy.

The crystal waters of Evergreen...

The pristine forest of the Amazon...

The smoky, filthy sewers of Neotokio... and the Asmodeous virus, designed for no purpose other than to kill.

Maybe that primal Elle was right.

Humans are pathetic creatures, driven by desires and living in misery.

When I saw Elle in Storkholm, she told me to save the surface people. Because it was so beautiful.

And she never knew how beautiful it was before the genius crucified it. She said they would treat the world carefully...

Elle...

Fyda... Royd...

_Elle_...

I'm so sorry. Mother. Light Gaia. I'm sorry I brought humans back from the darkness. I'm sorry I led their advances.

I'm sorry I taught them to poison your blood, rape your flesh and discard what they had used.

My poor earth.

If I'm really what humans call a god... because I created this...

If this is really a godly work...

Oh, Elle. We were from the underworld. We never should have left our homes.

Our happy days in Crysta... should have lasted forever. Our eternal, unchanging village, deep underground. Far away from God, Devil and anything else these humans used as justification for their own inherent evil.

Elle...

The surface was so beautiful...

But now genius has taken that beauty. Nothing is without purpose. A place for everything... everything in it's place.

Elle... my princess, my simple village sweetheart. This world is my greatest accomplishment. The greatest creation in ten thousand lifetimes of the legendary hero.

I curse the day I left Crysta.

...

No, before that. Dark Gaia spoke truly... 'If you never knew you could have been happy...'

My greatest accomplishment.

I curse its irredeemable sin. Am I human? No, surely not. I acted in the interests of the world.

My... masterpiece.

With one fatal flaw...

... I finished it.

Oh, Elle.


	2. Elle's Lament

Ark...why do you look so shaken? I thought you were only daydreaming, but you look like you've seen a ghost.

Hey, Ark? I think happiness is just being able to loaf without stress. You always tease me about loving my work at the loom, and you try to make me smile.

You know something, Ark? You're the only one who treats me like an equal. To the little ones, I'm Aunty Elle, and to the adults I'm the quiet weaver's daughter. They still call my mother the village weaver, even though her hands are so stiff she can't work the loom anymore.

Click, click, click. A loom is really a wonderful thing, Ark. It keeps your hands busy, but your mind is free to think, and your heart is free to pray.

Ark, if I made you a cape, will you wear it? I know you never get cold... I just feel as if it's _right_ that I make you a cape. But I want it to be special. Is that a bad thing, Ark? That I want what I weave for you to be a masterpiece beyond anything else I make?

Hmmm. Life is so pleasant, isn't it? But it isn't for everyone. One of the twins is having nightmares, although goodness knows which is which! But the child has been saying something strange. She says Ark will go far away... and that I will follow... but that the journeys will never take place because they already have. I don't know, I can't wrap my head around it. I don't want to leave the village, anyway. There's nothing out there, and I have everything I need right here.

Ark... I dream, sometimes. Lately, I feel... _corrected,_ almost, as if I'd been living the wrong life. Imagine that! I wonder where I was in the other. I'm sure I was with you.

But the dreams...

I keep thinking, Ark, that I'm missing something. Something I can't quite put my finger on. All night, I see the same dreams; walking through a village exactly like Crysta. But the air, the very air is different. I look around, and the sights are so vivid they make Crysta's colours look pale and washed-out. As if they'd been used before. And no crystal blue floats in the air. Strange, but sometimes I feel as though our village is just the reflection of this other one, and the floating crystal blue, so beautiful, is nothing more than thread to weave into the tapestry of our lives.

Haha. Sorry, Ark. Sitting at a loom for hours gives me plenty of time to think, and I've become a bit melancholy. We _must_ be real, otherwise I wouldn't be wondering, would I? Either way, I'm sure I'll be around long enough to figure it out.

...What's wrong, Ark? Your eyes suddenly filled with tears... there. Now you're all right again.

Ark, do you ever have those dreams? Dreams that... oh! I never noticed, Ark. There's crystal blue floating in your eyes. How pretty...

But, enough dallying. Ark, I am going to baby-sit the twins. I think you should go and get some sleep before night falls. You know you'll get into trouble if—

Ark, what's wrong? Why don't you want to leave? I'll see you again tomorrow. Of course I will, how could you say that! Ark, our bond is deeper than mere friendship. I believe we are bound by fate.

There. Now you're all right. Can you send in the twins on your way... come to think of it, how many times have I baby-sat for the twins? I've been doing it... for years... why haven't they gotten older? Ark, what is it about the village today? Time never seemed to matter, now everyone is rushing to complete their tasks. Did we just get so good at ignoring it that time didn't matter to us?

... I will think on this tonight. I am probably remembering wrongly, because of the dreams.

Oh, and Ark. I forgot to tell you. In these dreams, I once saw a boy who looked just like you... and he called me 'Princess.' Isn't it amazing what our minds come up with?

Now go. Sleep for both of us; I'll get no rest tonight with these two terrors.

…And, Ark?

…Sweet dreams, Ark.

Elle looked up from the loom as she heard the front door close. Her cheeks still blushing brightly, she thought distractedly; didn't Ark slam the doors? She was certain he did. But she knew, with equal certainty, that he had never slammed a door in his life.

Her mind was slipping, it seemed; she knew there was something she was about to remember. Elle gritted her teeth in frustration; memories she couldn't see, her thoughts kept sliding away.

_Princess..._

_Your Highness..._

_Princess Elle..._

Staring at nothing, her lips themselves shaped around a name. A name she had never heard, but that she knew intimately, like a trusted friend.

"Fy? Fydu... Fy-Fyda! _FYDA!"_

With a jolt, the memories returned with startling clarity. Elle, dazed, walked through the crowded streets of Liotto, the party town. She followed Ark's faint trail to Crysta— no, _Storkholm_, the village of her dreams.

And there she died.

A confused rush of memories blurred through her head, then snapped ultra-clear on one scene.

A scene she could never have witnessed. But she had, in a detached kind of way. She had no body, she was floating—she felt like cloudstuff, formless, ethereal and beautiful.

A soft but incredibly powerful voice that spoke to Ark.

"Ark... just for today, go and enjoy your last day in Crysta."

The perfect day...

The last day...

Elle broke out of her room and ran, sobbing, all the way to Ark's mansion. The orphans stared at her; they had never known Elle to be in such a rush! She nearly bowled over little Tomas, as she ran for Ark's bedroom.

Ark looked up at her obviously half-asleep. "What is it, Elle?"

She started to speak, to desperately say something—anything! She couldn't let her world just fade away!

But then she saw his eyes.

Glinting crystal blue danced there. Those eyes were hardened by the trials he had endured, from his emergence onto the brutal, desolate surface world to the prolonged exposure to the horrific Asmodeous virus in the sewers of Neotokio. The battle with Dark Gaia that had cost him so much... and would now steal away everything he had ever loved.

How could she deny those eyes the chance to finally rest?

She smiled and kissed his forehead. "Nothing, Ark. I just wanted to make sure you knew... I... I..." Her courage failed. "I... I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Elle."

"Goodnight, Ark."

Ark frowned and tossed again in his sleep. His dreams were troubled... hadn't Light Gaia told him this was finished? That his torment, his so-called _destiny_ was finally at an end?

He calmed. Silence, and peace in his mind. In his dreams, Ark thought he saw Elle, standing as she always did, familiar and beautiful. As he watched, she turned her head to meet his gaze.

Elle was not smiling.

"Ark. Do you hear me? I have something important to say..."

All that is most beautiful in the world will always fade away. So it was with the flowing crystal blue... the bold warrior's courage... the pure maiden's dreams... the love that the two shared and the final, glorious victory... all retold in crystal dreams on the surface world, of a tiny village, far beneath the ground.

Dreams of seeing the world grown older.


	3. An Empty Life

12th August, 2006.

Sunday.

Louran.

The sand still blows through the buildings. It's quite amazing that they've managed to sty in place as much as they have. Or that looters haven't torn them down to get at the bottomless flows of precious gemstones that once sustained this town. But then again, there are stories about this 'Ghost Town'.

I don't know why I came back here. I swore to myself that I would never set foot on the European continent again.

After all, there's nothing here for me anymore.

It's so hard to believe that I was involved in such a momentous time in Earth's history. If I close my eyes, I can still see the temples of Lhasa, smell the yaks and the straw, hear the chants of the monks attending Lord Kumari.

But now the town which was once the source of all wisdom is as dead as there's shattered homes of Louran. Lord Kumari, who was both mother and father to me, died. Of what we now know to be the common cold. Brought in by tourists, no less.

Naturally, this was not a major problem, my Grandfather said. His attendants knew he would be reborn.

That was five years ago.

Now there is no Lord Kumari. And there is no First Disciple Meihou. There is nothing. Nothing remains of the golden, infant world I grew up in. In just two decades, message drums and meditation have given way to the Internet, and 'New Age' lifestyles.

I am an old woman now. Past my thirtieth year. I have seen sketches of myself as a child, before digital cameras, and I can see clearly what I knew to be true.

The light and life is slowly fading from my eyes.

I have lost my power over illusions. Once I would have walked through an idyllic town, a desert oasis, surrounded by friends and family. I would have danced with the children and spoken with the adults, and none of us could possibly have been happier.

There's no children anymore. No adults, no pets. There haven't been any illusions since Turbo, my one companion, died. I thought he would have wanted to be buried here, at home, but instead he lies in South America. What used to be Evergreen, the paradise of plants. I suppose a dead dog can have a good time with all those dead trees.

Since then, no mirages. And it's not that I haven't tried... the pictures won't come.

There are no dreams anymore.

13th August, 2006.

Monday.

Louran.

I remain in Louran, wandering the empty desert which was once the main square. As I write this, I sit against the dry well, my laptop on my right and on my left—Perel! I was amazed to see him. My hero of another world. Somehow I hadn't expected him to age, but he had. I had, too.

I'm not as melancholy as yesterday. Perel and I have talked together for hours, and I have shown him the sights of old Louran. Both of us are determined not to mention how we met, or the mysterious figure that brought us together all those years ago.

I feel... expectant. Something is sure to happen, something big. Perel and I, in this place... it is impossible to believe it is a coincidence. We are significant people, and this 'dead' town is where I, at least, began.

He will not tell me what he is doing here. I suspect he has followed me; it would not be hard for Perel, now the marketing genius behind Anita's 'Nike' label to obtain details of this dig from my colleagues. Archaeology is a difficult career to keep secret.

But I _will_ keep the secret of why I am alone here. This time of my life when I had excuses for losing them in the desert is over. It would only be evil now.

I know it is only a matter of time before the name is mentioned. The question both want to ask so desperately.

"Have you seen... Ark?"

14th August, 2006.

Tuesday.

Louran.

Perel said it first. As I could have guessed. These Americans are so impatient.

Casually, like it meant nothing. Like it wasn't one of the most important questions man had ever asked.

"So, have  you heard from Ark lately?"

_Ark..._

I have not even dared to think the name for many years now. I spoke to Perel about him all afternoon and told him our adventures. Back when I was just Meilin. When the world was such a different place.

Our first meeting in Louran. My tracking him across the Taklama. Our adventures in Loire and the cold, silent Norfest Forest. Storkholm. The memories. Those days.

And... the dreams.

I cannot believe it, but I blushed to tell him. Our time in Loire, and the hotel room we shared. Of course he was too gentlemanly to take advantage of me, but oh, my dreams...

Then on, into the then-'New Continent'.

America!

Such a shock for a temple-raised girl! Liotto, an entire city devoted to perpetual celebration! If Ark had not been there, I may never have left, caught up in my own excesses. My cheeks burned again with humiliation as I described the night on Corcobad Hill, frozen like a photograph, so vivid in my memory. Ark's beautiful beloved, Elle. And my childish reaction when I realised I never had a chance.

Perel was shocked. I suppose he only really knew me after Dragoon Castle, when the lady knight, Fyda, forced me to grow up a little. He was amazed that I could be so petty. But then it was his turn for a story.

It was... moving. We both agree—those few months of our lives seem like the only real point in our existence. Everything before was just preparation, and everything after an epilogue. Faded, confused, rushed. Only that exciting time sticks in our minds with crystal clarity.

"We're not like other people."

Perel told me that today. And then he cried.

He is right. We _are_ different. Life without Ark is just washed-out and boring. There are no adventures, nothing left to discover. No unclimbed mountain, no untapped ore seam. 

There was another thing Perel said.

"I wish I had never met Ark."

I was shocked. I didn't think that this man who had grown from happy-go-lucky, streetsmart Perel was capable of a statement like that. But I empathise with him. Maybe if he hadn't been part of that heady time, the rest of his accomplishments wouldn't have seemed so... insignificant.

Myself?

I cannot say. I lived many lives when I chased after Ark. I wasn't chosen to save the world, I _chose. _I put myself in the position where there was no other possible choice. And I did it all for the love I bore Ark.

I told Perel that I loved Ark. Love, like life itself, was so much stronger in those days that I've never been quite sure if I've felt it since.

Poor Perel. I know he loves me. It is written all over his face.

But we are not like other people.

We spoke a great deal today. Something has been exorcised.

16th August, 2006.

Thursday.

Louran.

Perel is dead. And I am not surprised.

He came here, abandoned his empire and his billions, to chase... a memory. A mirage. A woman, a girl, who once made pictures in her head, and perhaps the only person on the planet who could understand him.

Only to find... the poor man! Only to find that she loved _him._ The boy who had swept through our lives like the incarnation of some god, and had left the rest of our lives a terrible, empty place.

Scientific advances, sure. But they didn't compare. Nothing compared to walking with Ark into adventure.

And now Perel is dead. Was this what I thought would happen? I think not, but I have my suspicions.

He lay in what used to be my own bedroom. By the time I found him, he was so cold. I took him—dragged him—to Louran's graveyard and scratched out a shallow grave.

I was lost in the night when Louran fell, and I was burying my parents. Mama. Papa. Please wake up... but the illusions never came. There are no more dreams in this lukewarm world of ours.

Perel has no headstone. Instead, I tore a section from one of my books and placed it between his teeth. Corpses hold no fear for me now, not after Louran.

A philosophical work. I thought he would have appreciated that irony. Nietzsche, I think.

"God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him."

18th August, 2006.

Saturday.

Louran.

It is my birthday.

Thirty-four. Twenty years, almost to the day, after I met Ark. Even with Perel lying just a few feet away, I think of Ark.

Things have come full circle. Us. This place. This time. Fyda and Royd died during the assault on Beruga. Grandfather Meihou, Lord Kumari are dead. Ark and his Elle have gone home. No-one has heard from Princess Elle since Dragoon Castle. If Ark or Fyda knew, they've taken that secret with them.

And now Perel is gone.

I am the last, the very last of those touched by Ark's spirit remaining. The very last to endure these endless meaningless days, _knowing_ it has never quite been time to lay it all to rest.

But now...

This time. This place. It is no coincidence. My life has come full circle.

Even the constellations I once saw from my yard have changed, although it hasn't been so long in their eternal estimation.  With the deaths of my travelling companions, and now my last friend, there is nothing left.

I will leave this diary inside the dry well. One day I hope someone will find it. What will the world be like then, I wonder?

There is nothing holding me back anymore. Mama... Papa... Uncle Temjin... Turbo...

And Ark...

I'll see you all... in just a little while.


	4. Pandora's Box

I am the light.

I am the darkness.

I am _Yomi_. I _am_ destiny.

Like Gaia, I have seen this world, walked this world. I have resurrected continents, guided a fledgling hero, and guarded the secret of Pandora's Box.

I have seen Earth born and destroyed. I have _brought about_ the world's birth, and been the catalyst of it's destruction.

Circumstances change. But there is always a legendary hero. There has to be. When Light and Dark are impotent, there must be a new player.

I have been a Phoenix, under the Master. I have been a comet, hurtling towards Gaia in the Tower of Babel. But betraying Ark...

I am eternal. My existence is beyond measure. I have seen Earth's cycle of growth and decay. And I have always done what has been necessary.

Why, then, am I now plagued by guilt?

Powerless to go against my nature and Gaia-ordained role in the game, I plotted Ark's downfall. Waited until he had proven himself the true hero, as if there had ever been any doubt. If he died, there would be no replacement.

Then attacked him. If Ark had died that night, Dark Gaia would have been unstoppable. With no champion of Light and no new hero, Light Gaia would have been pulled down from his 'Sky,' no longer 'The Master,' and that destiny would have ended.

And I would have no regrets.

But then, something even I had not expected. _I, _who have lived among humans! I, who was once human myself.

Elle... Ark's sweetheart. I thought memories of her would keep him going on his lonely quest, but I never imagined Dark Gaia would attempt to use her, too. She is part of the underworld, is _his, _but love is an emotion only humans have. Gaia could not have comprehended, let alone dealt with it.

I did not show it, but the presence of both the under world and surface Elles during the revelation of the hero truly unnerved me. The depths of their feelings for Ark threatened to erase my dark presence entirely.

These humans! What _are _they?

How can the actions, the futile sacrifice of a glorified monkey weigh upon the mind of Yomi? I _am_ the light, I _am _the dark!

Without Gaia, there is only _me!_ How can these humans, brief mortals, hold sway over me?

You impudent animals. You high-handed butchers of your own kind. You... _humans!_

And yet.

Dark Gaia's servant... Elle of the under world...

Deep in her eyes as the pulled the vortex open beneath us, I saw something that frightened even me.

Flowing... floating...

Courage.

The legendary hero.

Love.

And beautiful crystal blue.

Stunned, I allowed my aspect to be destroyed and revelled in disrupting Dark Gaia's scheme.

But Light Gaia would not let me die. Gaia does not treat people so.

Ark...

I stood by you in the final battle. I have never done that before. Always, just before the end, I have abandoned the legendary hero. It is humanity's place to banish the evil, or be consumed.

But I never left.

Ark...

I hope I have redeemed myself.

You are not dead.

You will never die.

You will be reborn, and I am sure you will be happy.

Later, Ark.

Farewell, brother.


	5. Iris

Iris.

A Tribute to Princess Elle.

_And I'd give up forever to touch you._

_And I know that you feel me somehow._

_You're closer to heaven than I'll ever be_

_And I don't want to go home right now._

Elle stalked the explorers. They were talking amongst themselves, deciding which way to go. But they didn't carry a Protect Bell; the maze of Norfest Forest would prove a graveyard for these ones too.

The girl who had been a princess stared between the foliage. She lived alone. These were the first humans she'd seen in years. She yearned to speak to them, to see their faces up close and touch their skin.

But no. The crimes she had committed were clear. She was a murderess. And she had a duty. No matter how she wanted to go back to the world of the living, this was her place now. The snows and winds and darkness of the fiends.__

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life._

_And sooner or later it's over._

_I just don't want to miss you tonight._

Without taking her gaze away from the group, she bent down and picked up a handful of sticky mud. Her rough hands; once delicate, pristine ivory but now toughened and wind-burned from exposure. Living alone in the forest, her appearance had been the first thing to go, to give way to simple survival. The primal Elle was barely capable of understanding the words these explorers spoke.

Systematically, she smeared the mud on her exposed skin to reduce its visibility. Wind whistled through the trees; the sun was slowly sinking out of sight. The intruders were starting to catch the attention of the forest awareness. And once night fell, there was no hope.

_And I don't want the world to see me,_

_Cos I don't think that they'd understand._

_When everything's made to be broken,_

_I just want you to know who I am._

Elle pressed close; closer. This group wasn't like the last one she had seen—these weren't explorers! The party of five included an aging man, a woman who was obviously his wife...

And a girl-child. Wrapped in exotic-looking furs, her clothes cut in unfamiliar styles. Faint, faint memory stirred... from the time in Dragoon Castle...

A cold drop of sweat ran down Elle's back at that thought. This girl was from Tibet, the mountain country. A child... a _child_...

Elle knew she was taking a risk, but she had to get closer. She stopped no more than a foot away from the girl. She had no fear as the light dimmed; Elle knew the forest wouldn't touch her, but these would all die.

But not the child. Not the child, not if Elle could help it.

She stared enraptured and reached through the brush, wanting to touch her. Wanting to feel a heartbeat, feeling connected to this girl much more than the nameless parents and guides. She wanted to know what this child... could be.

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming._

_Or the moment of truth in your lies._

_When everything feels like the movies,_

_Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive._

The loneliness of the years pushed in on her. Since... he... had left her in Storkholm, after the resurrection of the legendary hero, she had nothing. And gradually, she came to understand the wilderness in which she lived.

Why hadn't Storkholm fallen? Why had the wolves resided, but not destroyed anything? Why hadn't the trees taken over? Why hadn't the forest swallowed the empty village?

Now, Elle knew. The forest existed only to protect the village. The maze, the animals, the fiends. Their sole purpose was to keep intruders away from the legendary arms, the miraculous pike and breastplate of the true Hero. The communal awareness that guided them was merciless, and answered only to Storkholm's ruling blood. Elle was the only scion of that family, and thus the forest would go out of its way to preserve her.

But no-one else. _He _had proven himself over the forest on his first visit; the awareness knew when it was overmatched, and had allowed Elle to raise him as a child in the confusion of the resurrection. She lived alone; the forest allowed her no companions, even if she wanted them.

Even if she loved them.

_And I don't want the world to see me,_

_Cos I don't think that they'd understand._

_When everything's made to be broken,_

_I just want you to know who I am._

Her hand was just inches away from the child, slowly reaching, when she turned to stare into the trees suddenly. Elle melted out of sight instantly, and the girl gave a tiny scream and a deep sigh, thinking she had seen a spirit of the forest.

She wasn't right, but neither altogether wrong.

The sun dipped still lower. The adults in the group spoke more urgently amongst themselves as behind them, witchlights danced. The claws and teeth of the forest awareness had noticed them; they wouldn't last the night. Elle made up her mind in a moment.

"Chija!" the mother cried, horrified at seeing the dirty, ragged Elle leap from the underbrush and grab at her child. Her companions leveled weapons at her, but didn't know whether or not to fire. This didn't look like one of the fiends the old men in Loire had told them about.

"What are you waiting for? Save my baby!" the woman screamed, words that Elle could not recognise. She bared her teeth in response and leapt away, back into the trees, taking the child with her. Chija's mother screamed again and started to run after her, but stopped just before entering the brush.

White fangs and yellow eyes gleamed in the shadows.

Screams of agony rang out behind Elle as she ran, carrying the silent child. Chija was limp; Elle wondered if she was even conscious. She put her head down and ran harder towards Storkholm; she knew the forest wouldn't wait until the family was dead.  
It was too hungry for that.

_And I don't want the world to see me,_

_Cos I don't think that they'd understand._

_When everything's made to be broken,_

_I just want you to know who I am._

She nearly made it. Nearly ran across the bridge before the forest caught her. A pack of wolves paced her, flanked her, cut off her flight. One came into the open and growled; she knew what it wanted.

The soundless child she carried beneath her arm.

"You've had enough blood!" she screamed at it, in the last human words she could remember. This one doesn't need to die! The treasure of the village isn't there anymore!

But the forest couldn't understand that. It existed to protect Storkholm and it's people. No more, no others.

As she turned to run, the wolf lunged, tearing the flesh of her arm. Elle gasped; it was the first time the forest had ever harmed her. Normally even branches would bend out of her way so that she wouldn't scratch her face. But now the forest was getting serious, and wanted to finish it.

She whirled to another direction and ran. Ran and ran and ran...

And was neatly tackled to the ground by a wolf, no more than twenty meters later.

She cried with tears she didn't know she still had, as the wolves dragged Chija away from her and put an end to her perceived threat. Cried as blood stained the snow, cried as the wolf shook its red muzzle and splashed her face. Cried as another wolf trotted over to her, to tenderly lick the blood away, and to drop the girl's heavy fur coat in her lap.

The forest looked after Elle.

More red caught Elle's eye; she moved to dash it away, but her fingers caught. It wasn't blood but an old, old pressed flower. Somehow, Elle knew that this had been the girl's sole reason for living.

The wolves nudged her, trying to get her moving back to Storkholm. She stood up slowly, clutching the flower to her chest, and began walking home as she always would.

Alone.

'Iris' is owned by the Goo-Goo Dolls. I take no credit for the song lyrics.


End file.
